


Have a Nap

by KSilverland



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 13:01:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5829925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KSilverland/pseuds/KSilverland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shepard's been working herself to the bone, and a certain turian reminds her that she needs to take some time for herself too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have a Nap

**Author's Note:**

> Pure, unadulterated, Shakarian fluff. A special thank you to captainsaku for beta-ing and dealing with my multiple re-writes.

Shepard grunted and stretched as she abandoned another data-pad on the coffee table. It had been a full day, from a briefing with Wrex and the Primarch that morning to the drop on Bening to evac citizens caught under a Cerberus assault. She’d managed to squeeze in a quick shower before debrief, but her rounds and the ensuing paperwork had demanded her attention, along with Traynor’s daily update regarding her more urgent messages. It had been well into the night cycle when she finally made it back to her quarters to read over the latest fleet update from Hackett and catch up on her reports. That had been four hours ago, and she’d since relocated from her terminal to her couch. The latest numbers from Alliance Command scrolled on the data-pad in her hand, though they’d begun to blur together. She needed more coffee.

Shepard pushed herself upright with a sigh and spared the stack of data-pads on the table a glance. She was running out of hours in the day to get things done, and she’d be lying if she didn’t admit to being stretched thin. Better to work, though, than to be plagued by the strange, grey dreams that haunted her sleeping hours. She shivered. 

Before she could stand, her cabin door chirped and slid open to admit a certain turian, who proceeded down the stairs with a mug in each hand.

“Why am I not surprised you’re still awake?” 

She met Garrus’ arched browplate with a grin. “No rest for the wicked?”  
  
He huffed and deposited his cargo on the table, beside her teetering stack of reports. She could smell the warm, heady aroma of the dextro brew he preferred from her perch on the couch. “Saving the galaxy is hardly ‘wicked,’ Shepard.”

She swung her legs down and stood to press a kiss to the offending browplate that continued to question her sudden insomniac tendencies. “Doesn’t mean there’s not still a lot to be done if we’re going to get through this.”

“True…” He touched his brow to hers, his voice a low rumble. “But know that we need you in one piece. _I_ need you in one piece.”  
  
She sighed and pressed hard into the contact as she swallowed against the desperate _ache_ that threatened to choke her. Not now--now they still had time. Still had a war to fight, but they’d fight it together. They had _now_. “I know.”

They remained like that for the span of a heartbeat, brows pressed together, eyes closed. Garrus held her by a shoulder, her own hands pressed to his chest, where the fabric of his civvies was warm with his body heat. She exhaled slowly and pulled back to press a human kiss to his mouth, eyes soft. “Keep me company?”  
  
“Always.”  
  
She tugged him down onto the couch with her and collected her abandoned report. Garrus tucked her against his side, his arm about her shoulders as he scanned the scrolling data. “The latest from Hackett?”  
  
Shepard nodded. “The Crucible is coming along, but we’re still short on Platinum and Element Zero. The Obelisk from Irune is supposed to arrive soon, and Liara--Damn it, Garrus. you’re not helping.”  
  
Garrus blinked innocently down at her, mandibles spread wide and a hand in her now-loose hair. “What?”  
  
“The--”  
  
He dragged his talons across her scalp, eliciting a low groan.   
  
Shepard sagged against him. “That.”

He hummed, a levity in his voice belying his laughter. “Just enjoying your hair, Shepard.”  
  
“Enjoying my hair, my ass.” She huffed softly as he carded his fingers through her dark hair, her cheek pillowed against his cowl. “This is sabotage.”  
  
His low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Consider it a relaxation exercise.”  
  
She chuffed as her eyes fluttered shut, the data-pad forgotten in her lap. “Traitor.”  
  
“I appreciate you too, Shepard.”  
  
Her grumbled complaint was lost to the fabric of his tunic as she relaxed against him, and no more than a few minutes passed before she was soundly asleep.


End file.
